


These Little Things Define You

by honey_and_milk



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M, M/M, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-10-10
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:46:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/honey_and_milk/pseuds/honey_and_milk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve Rogers was Erskine's first choice.  But Steve's body has never been as strong as his spirit, and the risk is too great.<br/>So Steve remains only Steve, and Captain America is only a dancing monkey in a suit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	These Little Things Define You

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to notallbees for the beta!

“Steven,” came Erskine’s gentle voice from the door to the barracks.  “May I have a word?”  

“Sure sir,” said Steve, putting down the worn book he’d been reading and meeting the doctor at the threshold.  “Is everything alright?”

“Let’s walk,” Erskine suggested, heading into the dark with Steve trailing after him.  Steve frowned, unsure of how to ask him what was on his mind.  Fortunately, Erskine saved him the trouble.  

“You are, I think, by far the obvious choice for Project Rebirth,” he said.  “You are a good man, with a good heart, who cares about others more than himself.   _You_ are the kind of man we need.”

Steve’s mouth worked like a fish’s for a moment, before he stuttered out a “Thank you, sir.”  He wasn’t used to being told he was needed, that people _like him_ were needed, not by anybody except Bucky - and if he were honest, he didn’t always believe Bucky.  But this man had no reason to lie, didn’t owe Steve anything, even friendship.  And here he was saying Steve was needed.  That he was good.  

Erskine waved the thanks away with a frustrated noise.  

“It is the truth,” he said simply.  “Unfortunately, Colonel Phillips disagrees.”  Erskine turned to Steve, a soft smile that read more like frown playing on his lips.  Steve’s heart sank, but it was no surprise that Phillips, that any of his commanders really, thought he was useless.  

“Don’t misunderstand,” Erskine continued, placing his hands on Steve’s shoulders, comforting and warm.  Steve couldn’t meet his eyes.  “He knows that you are brave and good, as I do.”  

“But,” Steve said, and he couldn’t keep the bitterness from his voice.  

“But,” Erskine agreed, releasing Steve’s shoulders.  “He does not think you would survive the procedure.”  

“And you agree?”  

“I,” the doctor hesitated.  “I do not know.  But Steven, your medical records, your body it is… not strong.  Not like your spirit.”  Steve’s face burned, but he met Erskine’s eyes with defiance.  He didn’t need Erskine, didn’t need _anyone_ telling him how weak his body was.  He _knew._  He knew that his heart could give out without warning at a moment’s notice, knew that his lungs could betray him if he pushed too hard, knew that as much as he wanted to believe he could fight his way through anything, he could die doing things most men did without a second thought.  

“I could die anyway,” Steve said with a hard voice, because he could think of nothing else, nothing more true.  Erskine sighed heavily and shook his head.  

“Perhaps,” he said.  “And if I had my way, no one would ever have to live with that reality.”  Something cold coiled in Steve’s gut, and he thought unkindly of the procedure he’d already undergone, the one he’d allowed so they’d been willing to give him a chance at all.  

“But Steven, you cannot ask me to risk being the one responsible for your death.” Erskine’s words deflated Steve like a punctured balloon.  He was right, of course.  That wouldn’t be fair of Steve, to place that kind of responsibility in Erskine’s hands, to risk leaving him with that kind of guilt.  

“I’m sorry sir,” Steve said genuinely, but miserably.   

“I am too,” said Erskine after a pause.  “But don’t lose hope, Steven.  If the procedure is a success, there will be a need for more volunteers.  And we will know by then if it really would be too much for your body.  You may get your chance yet.”  

Steve’s smile was a weak, half-hearted thing, but even so, he took some solace in Erskine’s words.  

“Who are you going to- uh, that is, if you don’t mind my asking,” Steve began, thinking about the other men in the unit.  

“Millerson,” said Erskine, resuming their walk.  Steve thought of the quiet, freckled redhead who was neither good nor bad at anything he did, whose primary trait seemed to be his lack of memorability.  

“Dave?” Steve said Millerson’s first name aloud, as though that would make the reason for Erskine’s choice clearer.  It wasn’t that he disliked Millerson, not the way he disliked some of the men.  It was only that he’d never really thought of him much.  

“He would not be my first choice,” Erskine said, gesturing vaguely at Steve, as though to remind them both of whom he would have chosen.  “He is mundane.  But, he is not a bully, even if he is content to let others be.  And we have a time limit.  So yes.  Dave.”  

The pair walked in silence for a time, the gravel of the camp crunching audibly under their boots in the cool night air.  

“I would like you to be present for the procedure,” Erskine said finally.  

“Sure,” said Steve, and Erskine smiled, maybe the first genuine smile Steve had ever seen him make.  

“Come, Steven.  We will have a drink in my tent.”


End file.
